Holiday Shorts of the Wolfen Triology
by wolfluvermh
Summary: You know them from "Time and Time Again" and "Jumping at Shadows!" It's the Wolfen gang! This is my present to all my faithful readers. I want to wish you all a happy holiday season. Merry Christmas! It may be late, but Happy Hanukkah!


**Hey! I just wanted to wish all of my viewers the best of holiday seasons with this collection of shorts from both my characters and Brandon Mull's! **

**There's Christmas, Hanukkah, Holidays in general… everything! **

**This skips around a lot from time zones; you just sort of have to use context clues, if there's any confusion, I'll clear it up if you shoot me a review.**

**There are two of Chaos's in here, I hope that's alright… I mean, everybody loves Chaos, so I figure there's not many complaints out there!**

* * *

**~ Holiday Special: The Wolfen Chronicles Short Stories ~**

The Fairy King shivers in the cold. The wails of furious demons outside his last sanctuary grow louder and louder, as do the grinding rasps of their claws on the outer layer of the shell he'd taken cover in. His arms shake vividly, his eyes jostling in their sockets. Barely able to focus, weak from the loss of his last horn, the Fairy King extends a hand.

A blue light burns to life. It twinkles majestically in his hand, like a miniature star. He watches it with a forlorn sense of awe. Lifting one finger, the Fairy King strokes the beams of light. Whispering an incantation beneath his breath, the Fairy King clutches the orb of light against his breast.

The ball of light disappears.

The Fairy King curls tighter in on himself as the first claw pierces his shelter.

* * *

The Fairy Queen stands at the edge of the chasm, magical energy flowing through her systems. Upon her request, all her subjects are devoid. For now, she requires only silence to balm her sadness.

Her hair is slowly tugged from the ornate bindings she'd wrapped it in prior. It twists in the wind, writhing in front of her face and marring her eyesight. With two fingers, the Fairy Queen nudges a tassel from her eyes.

A blue orb floats in front of her, one that hadn't been there before her hair had come loose. The Fairy Queen's eyes widen as it hovers uncertainly in the air, twinkling like a fallen star. With humbling speed, it gradually draws nearer and nearer to the Fairy Queen, hovering above her face.

Sadness overwhelms the Fairy Queen. A poignant smile barely brushing at the corners of her lips, she reaches up and strokes the little orb of light. For the shortest of moments, she can sense that the light has been stroked before, by one just as old and just as wise.

A single tear traces down the Fairy Queen's cheek. She grabs the orb zealously and clutches it to her chest, arms closing around the light in an inescapable prison.

"He lives still," she whispers with heart-rending emotion, the three words an incantation. "He lives still. Oh, Cadeliah, you were right! He lives still."

* * *

Brach chews thoughtfully on the candy cane, his eyes locked on the screen. The peppermint cracks beneath his blunt teeth. His other hand lingers on the remote, touching the channel command buttons hesitantly. The screen of the boxy TV flashes with pictures of artfully decorated Christmas trees. He leans forward, mind filled with interest.

"Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer," Brach reads aloud. He frowns. The cheery music continues to play. He watches the poor animation with rapture. Slowly, Brach sets the remote down, and nestles into the creaky couch, eyes glued to the screen.

* * *

There he is again, just like last night! The cloaked monster!

Rebecca watches from the shadows, her eyes wide and filled with interest. The guardians of the menorah had long since fallen asleep, dropping helplessly to their weariness. The candles' glow is reduced to one small tongue of flame.

Like a ghost, the monster drifts over the floor. His bizarre paws step nimbly over sleeping men, careful to avoid them. Slowly, he approaches the center of the room. She scrunches back against the wall, hoping not to be noticed by the grand beast.

Transfixed, Rebecca watches with awe as the creature leans forward, towards the menorah. A canine muzzle appears from inside the cowl of its cloak, banded with black and white. Its lips part as it nears the tongs of the menorah. With a sound like a gust of wind in the bitter winter, the creature breathes out onto the menorah.

Her eyes widen with shock. Underneath the beast's whistling breath, the menorah's oil refills itself. The flames roar back to life, casting orange light up the beast's striped muzzle. It recoils from the flames, quenching itself in darkness once more. The beast hovers there for a moment, like any other night. Then it turns about with a snap of its cloak, ghosting back towards the doors like a shadow.

Rebecca bolts to her feet, shooting from her hiding spot. She hops over the slumbering bodies of the men, accidently clipping shoulders and causing more than a few grumbles to rouse to life. People toss and turn, kicking at her passing feet. She darts out the doorframe, following the rapidly retreating figure. Her bare feet skip over the dusty ground, quick and dainty.

"Wait!" she calls after the beast. "Wait, Mr. Monster!"

The thing pauses. The jet black cloak pools around him, no longer flapping with the wind but rather gently undulating. The monster's back is to her; it looms above at nearly seven feet of height. She skitters to a stop, hitting the brakes and sending a puff of dust swirling into the air. The night air caresses her cheeks.

"I saw what you did back there!" she yells again.

The beast turns its head, not facing her, but rather tilting it to a position. The muzzle peeks from the folds of the cowl, white and black pattern staccato against the dull greys of the night. She has the sensation that the creature is listening to her, paying attention to her words.

"I saw what you did," she repeats with a sigh.

"What are you going to do?" Rebecca jumps at the creature's voice; it's deep as the ocean, melodious as a swallow's song. There's an edge of cruelty in the rich, velvety tones, but Rebecca doesn't find it threatening in the slightest. The creature is not something to be feared, even as it turns more to her. "Are you going to call for the guards? Send them after the Big, Bad Wolf?"

"No!" cries Rebecca in horror. Her eyes widen. "No, no! Not at all, sir. I came to thank you, Mr. Monster." Her face glows with warmth as she steps forward, eyes shining. "Our God does work in strange ways, does he not? For who would expect him to send the demon to do his bidding? I daresay he sent you to show us that even the evilest of creatures have kindness in their hearts. I daresay that you have a very kind heart, sir."

The creature turns. Elegant paws turn to the front, drumming against the dust. Its face is still hidden by shadows. A blue opal shines at his breast. It breathes out, breath turning silver in the light of the moon. From the darkness of the cowl, two glowing purple eyes shine. The beast stares down at her with interest.

"Who are you, child?" he wonders aloud, voice saturated with more warmth than previously. "What is your name?"

Rebecca beams up at him, linking her hands behind her back and rocking on the balls of her feet. "My name is Rebecca, sir. Rebecca Dixon. Yours?"

The beast grunts impassively, sending another plume of silver breath into the air. "Rebecca Dixon, hear this: I am not a messenger from your God, nor do I believe in your God. I act on my own will, not by the biding of your God."

Rebecca grins up at the wolf. "Then that makes you all the more wise, sir. Don't worry. They'll be remembering this day for centuries to come. We'll always remember the menorah miracle. And I'll always remember you, sir. The friendly demon."

* * *

"What is that?" Chaos stands stiff suddenly. "There! In the window! What is that?"

Crimson looks Chaos over. The wolf is still thin and scruffy from his time in Zzyxz, his striped fur lacking its typical luster. His amethyst eyes are somewhat glazed, though wide with shock and wonder. His cloak flutters in the wind, the black fabric billowing around his legs like a shadow. Held high and upright, his head is cocked towards the warm window. The wolf's nostrils flare at the sight of the menorah in the windowsill. He seems as though he's seen a ghost.

"A menorah," explains Crimson. "I suppose you missed that. There's this holiday that really has become popular in the last millennia. The Jewish, they light a menorah in honor of some miracle that happened ages ago with oil lasting over a week or something. Why?"

Chaos's shock slowly morphs into a beatific grin, the first real Chaos-like expression Crimson had seen since the wolf had returned from Zzyxz. His ears flatten, and his smile is genuine and warm. "She didn't forget. Oh, God bless you, Rebecca Dixon!"

* * *

Bracken frowns, glancing around the room. Just like every year, the Sphinx had constructed a sparse Christmas tree in the corner of the game room, complete with weak flickering lights. He turns to his longtime friend with confusion. "What is it that you wish to show me? I see nothing out of the ordinary."

Bracken's friend – a hobgoblin by the name of Ghert – gestures towards a sparkling new game in the corner. It is different from the rest; the flat plane of highly-defined pixels is very different from the primitive designs of the other games surrounding him. The sleek black cords attached to the screen lead to a glinting black hand control, shaping perfectly for hands. He can barely make out the following inscription printed on the device: XBOX 360.

With a suspicious frown, Bracken marches towards the glossy new set of entertainment machines. He yanks a bright orange slip of paper that'd been stuck to the edge of the TV screen. Studying the swirling text, Bracken only becomes more confused.

Ghert waddles up. "What does it say?" he squawks in his low voice, trying to stand on his toes to peer at the paper.

Bracken frowns. "_Merry Christmas, Unicorn. XOXO, Fairykind_."

* * *

Cadeliah tips her head up. Her eyes shine as she watches the snow swirl down. Each individual flake is so beautiful, so different, so unique. They glimmer like falling fairies, reflecting the sunset with shades of blue, purple, pink, orange, and gold. The landscape surrounding her is a painting of the gorgeous colors. So long has she been sitting out here that her footprints have been blanketed by white, leaving no mars in the sparkling scene.

She breathes in the scent of the snow. The scent is so crisp, so clean, so precise. So completely and utterly frigid. It bites at her lungs as she breathes, the frost webbing over her internal organs. Her breath puffs in front of her face like a billowing cloud.

Another plume of breath drifts up. Cadeliah tilts her head down to a little ball of fuzz wheezing with snores at her paws. As soon as Cadeliah had sat on the icy plain, her little one had curled up against her warmth. The she-pup's fur hardly differs from Cadeliah's, so she could be just a particularly fluffy patch of fur, no different from any other part on Cadeliah.

"Ma'am, if you don't mind me intruding, it's remarkably cold," calls a masculine voice from nowhere. Cadeliah jumps, icy fingers gripping her heart. "And open. You never know when one of those damned humans will show up. Let me guide you home, miss."

Cadeliah whips her head around, using one paw to clutch her pup closer to her chest. Her eyes lock on another pair…

And then things change.

Cadeliah wheezes for breath. Pinkish orange eyes, the exact shade of the light reflecting off the glittering snow, bore into hers. White fur frames the wolf's expressive eyes, as white as the flakes spiraling from the sky. Something inside Cadeliah melts. The world begins shaking. Her mouth drops open. Her legs quiver uncontrollably. Cadeliah gasps, her ears flattening against her skull.

Looking at this wolf, Cadeliah feels whole. For the first time in forever – since the moment she'd gained this accursed golden eye – Cadeliah does not feel her doom creeping closer. The weight of future is gone, devoid of its heaviness, devoid of any weight. This wolf, though she know not his name, is a thing her kind knows as Soul Mates.

She can see her own turmoil of emotions as he gawks at her.

Cadeliah takes in the raven black of his lips and eyelids. She studies the majestic mane of white fur framing his broad face. The muscles along his body are full and stocky. Even the length of his dark claws is noted by her. Cadeliah loves every inch of this wolf.

"Uh – bu – you – uh…," he stammers, staggering in the snow and disrupting the perfect trail of neat footsteps he'd made on his trek up to her. The wolf fumbles for words, his pinkish orange eyes a mess of emotion.

Cadeliah smiles kindly. She stands to her four feet. "Hello, there. You're Brambling, the White Warrior, correct?"

He nods vigorously, pelt quivering with the movement. After a second of hesitation, Brambling sweeps into an elaborate bow, pressing his face to the flawless white snow. "May I be so humble as to ask the name of the most beautiful wolf I have ever clapped eyes upon?"

"I am Cadeliah." Cadeliah bows her head, smiling wryly to herself. She gestures towards the pup staring at Brambling with curious eyes. "This is my daughter, Fiona."

"Cadeliah?" Brambling smiles, the spell not allowing him to see the truth, keeping him under charm. "Named after the righteous Soul Bearer, I see. A good name for one as amazing as yourself."

Cadeliah shakes her head slowly, still smiling. "No. The Soul Bearer. It's a pleasure to meet you at last, Brambling."

Brambling hesitates. She can feel the uncertainty in his aura. There is a lack of confidence in the warrior renowned for his courage. Perhaps the legends are fabricated. Perhaps the tales are not true. Or perhaps Cadeliah dissolves his bravery.

At long last, Brambling rises from the snow. There is a cold glint mixed in with the benevolent warmth. "I vow to you that I will keep your daughter safe," he swears, seriousness coloring his voice. Brambling braces his muscles, snarling at nothing in particular to bare his long, ivory teeth. "Nothing will get past me."

Cadeliah smiles again. "That's customary for most Soul Mates."

A nervous smile plays at Brambling's lips. His tail starts to wag. "Is… is that what this feeling is?"

"Yes." Cadeliah rises from her seat in the snow, tapping the tip of her nose to Brambling's. She can feel him quivering, despite the mere brush of skin. "That is what this feeling is." She nudges him playfully. "I hope our children have eyes just like yours."

"I would say that children with yours would be lovely, but" – Brambling turns to the confused Fiona with a smile – "I already have a daughter."

Cadeliah's love is potent and fluttering as he sinks down in the snow beside Fiona, bringing their eyes to the same level. His smile is kind and filled with adoration.

"Hello there," greets Brambling. "How are you, Fiona?"

Fiona blinks her gold and blue eyes. After a moment of shock, she growls at him, baring her sharp baby teeth. "I'm doing good enough to rip you up if you hurt my Mama!"

"I do not plan on hurting your mother," laughs Brambling. "I plan on protecting her." His eyes glow. "Until the very end."

* * *

Cassandra bundles her jacket around her. She can hear the slightest crunch of snow from behind her, and a smile curves at her lips.

"I know it's you," she laughs, shuffling her wings. Turning, she faces a solemn figure.

He's tall, very tall. The man is cloaked in black fabric, black fabric that undulates like shadows. A large cowl darkens his face, not allowing even the slightest beam of light to penetrate the night beneath. His shoulders are broad, revealing muscle and brawn. Most of the rest of the shadowy figure is hidden, despite one hand extended from the folds of the cloak. In that callused hand is a box of chocolates.

"I know it's you, Seth," she chuckles, dancing forward nimbly. She takes the very tip of his cloak and flicks it from his head, something she'd never gathered the courage to do before. "After all this time…"

His face is older than it is currently, maybe in his upper twenties. There's more pain in his eyes, pain that is almost hidden by the mirth at the sight of Cassandra. Seth's full lips yank back into a huge grin. He laughs merrily. Two brawny arms close around Cassandra, holding her to a familiar – though somewhat more developed – body.

"It's taken you long enough," he muses in her ear, foul breath smelling as though he hadn't brushed in weeks, and yet somehow still enjoyable.

Cassandra squirms uncomfortably, her mind still on the box of chocolates. "Yeah, what's up with that? Every year, bringing me chocolates? I mean, don't get me wrong, delicious stuff, but that's a serious waste of time travel."

"Hmm," he grunts indifferently. "The first few times it was quite hilarious."

Cassandra laughs out loud, recalling her first shocked reactions to the shadowed man offering her chocolates. "Well, yeah." She worms out of his embrace, gently taking the chocolates from his wiry hands. The box rattles. Cassandra grins at him, cocking an eyebrow teasingly.

"You know you'll have to do better," she calls, pivoting and ignoring the erratic hammering of her heart. Cassandra begins to stride back to the Sorenson porch. "I can't be won over by a few romantic gestures."

"Don't worry!" he laughs boastfully from behind her. "I've got plenty planned! You'll be the cat purring in my lap when I'm finished."

"Is that so?" Cassandra pauses by the front door, the screen halfway opened. She turns back to him, cocking an eyebrow. "Careful, Sorenson. Don't count your astrid-girls before they're hatched."

* * *

"I never thought I'd go Christmas shopping with a wolf," laughs Kendra. She shoves her bags at Fiona, who expertly loops the handles over her muzzle. "I mean, I still think it's pretty incredible that no one is coming up to us."

Fiona smirks. "That's magic for you." She gestures towards the pulsing Soul Stone at her throat. "Magical stuff, magic is."

"You don't say," laughs Kendra, shaking her head with exasperation.

The halls of the mall are alive with shoppers scurrying to and fro. Women are bustling under the weight of thousands of bags hanging from each arm. They stagger about in their high heels, stabbing one another purposefully with the sharp corners of shopping bags to subtly scoot a place up in line. Boyfriends and fiancés and husbands scramble after them, each weighed down with more parcels than the last. Children screech and launch themselves at the nearest sweet shop. A girl with blonde hair and a computer balanced on her lap is just sitting in the courtyard, casually sipping a Panera coffee while idly typing things down. The girl had first caught Kendra's attention for her speckled skin; when approached, the girl had answered that she had a skin disease called Vitiligo, and that she didn't necessarily have anything to do. Apparently the girl enjoys people-watched every Christmas. One can understand why with a simple glance around the mall.

"Oh, honey," gasps Fiona. Her voice sounds as though she's seen her God for the first time, as though she's looking at the star of her life. Kendra whips her head around. The wolf is staring at a rack inside the store.

Kendra narrows in on Fiona's target, and gasps. "Found Bracken's present."

* * *

Mary looked up in her exhaustion, peering past the dirty ox and the filthy donkey to see a different figure looming just outside the light of the candles. The barest flicker of orange light passes over a strip of dark cloth. She frowns, holding the squalling child close to her. Seeing her concern, Joseph lifts his head and readies his staff.

"Who goes there?" Mary's husbands booms.

"A curious demon," answers the shape honestly. His voice is musical as an angel's. Two purple eyes burn to life from the darkness. "You claim for this to be the Son of God?"

Mary shifts her child to a more protected position. "Aye."

"Is it true then" – the creature edges closer to the light, revealing a cloak of shadows shielding his face from the candles and a long muzzle beneath his cowl – "that he is kind to all, both dark and light? Could he perhaps look upon one who has done something as evil as I with kindness?"

Mary looked to her husband, then down at the sleeping face of her child with a battle for morality. Her infinite love kindles in her chest, but so does sympathy for the pathetic creature hovering in the darkness, searching for repentance.

"Shall we discover?" She beckons the wretched creature forward empathetically. "Come, step into the light."

A wolf with stripes banding up and down his fur steps up, his broad face wide and impassive. It does not walk so much as it glides, the shadow of his passing dancing over the straw. Joseph holds his staff threateningly, but the wolf does not cast him a second glance. Fear burns in Mary's heart as it draws nearer without a sound. The wolf kneels beside her in the hay, his violet eyes locked on Jesus's face.

The wolf breathes over her baby's face, just the edges of his breath reaching Mary. It's warm and gentle. There's something foreign to a wolf in his eyes.

Slowly, very slowly, the baby reaches out and touches the wolf on the cheek. His pudgy fingers twine in the wolf's fur, feeling both black and white. For a moment, nothing happens. Jesus studies the wolf. The wolf holds his breath and studies the infant.

Then, retracting his arm, Jesus giggles and cackles, quitting his squalling for the first time in hours. He lets go of the wolf's cheek, instead shaking balled fists with glee. Toothless gums flash with the child's grin.

Mary strokes her baby's chubby cheek, staring up at the demon wolf in awe as he rises. The wolf stands tall, cloak billowing around his feet once more. A smile twists at his lips, and warmth is potent in his purple eyes. The glowing spirit in the wolf's vivid eyes clearly portrays that he is or had once been a happy father.

"I am not a messenger of your God," explains the wolf with a soft undertone of adoration, "nor do I believe in your God. But this child – this little infant, curled up in a manger with the donkeys – he's a reason to fight for. If you humans have to idolize anyone – well, I'll assure it's the best of you."

And with that, the wolf is gone, returning to the mysterious shadows of his origination.

* * *

The third wise man jots something down in his notes. His pen skates over the paper. The stars twinkle overhead, each one requiring a mapping and a labelling. His companions' fingers fly just as fast as his. Though the night stretches on and shadows are dark and gloomy, their work never ceases.

A brilliant light pours over the plains. The third wise man drops his pen in surprise, sending dark blots of black ink over the carefully plotted map. He holds up his hands to bode off the light, crying out in fear. Power releases itself unto him, and a deep voice calls from the beyond.

"Follow me!" howls a melodious voice, the voice deeper and more mysterious than the earth itself. The voice is gravelly and smooth, beautiful and awful, terrifying and comforting. Its power is reverberating in every word. "I can show you the way!"

"To what?" cries the first wise man in terror. "Show us the way to what, Almighty Lord?"

"The Son of God!" the voice answers. The booming power rolls over the valley, and then the light vanishes. The third man is blinded momentarily, staggering against the table. The luminance does not disappear completely; simply reducing in size to a heavenly glow. A star wanders over the distant ridge, shafts of multi-colored light cast from its center. A figure of shadows stands against the horizon, directly beneath the star. The wolf's shape howls once, a noise eerily similar to the ghostly voice, and then begins to bound forward, the heavenly star following it at a slower pace. "Follow me to your Emmanuel!"

* * *

Seth picks up a piece of the Nativity he'd never seen before. Frowning, he rubs his finger up the wooden carving of a wolf cut deep with scars that look almost exactly like the stripes of a zebra. But it does not have its teeth bared, nor a wicked grin. It is smiling, with a star emblem shining atop its head and a menorah at its feet.

* * *

**I hope you enjoyed! Everyone, have a happy holiday season!**

**Ciao,**

**~wolfluvermh**


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